


Immobility

by Shi_no_tamashii



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fanfiction, Immobility, M/M, Past and Present, Reapers, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_no_tamashii/pseuds/Shi_no_tamashii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our favorite Undertaker has an accident...or was it an accident? Who knows? He experiences lingering effects which come and go in some sort of attack on his body. Undertaker's POV in the first chapter. GrellXUndertaker</p><p>Also on FF.net</p><p>Finished after 3 years of delay</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My light

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this on FanFiction.net, but decided to repost it here on AO3 sooo...enjoy!

**Undertaker's POV**

Light and darkness. Where there was light, there was darkness. Will you find a light in the darkness as well? I'm not sure. Everything was light and dark. My thoughts only existed in darkness, that was until I met her. She brought light into my life, more a red light, but a light nevertheless. She was born a woman trapped in a male's body. I understand her. Not many do. She'd been trapped inside her own dark mind as well, but she didn't show it. I had nothing to fear, I was alone all the time after all.  
Now, my lovely red rose came into my life. She stole my heart and mended it before locking it away and claiming it as her own. Her name is Grell Sutcliff. Yes, a man. Like I said, she wasn't born a woman. She gave me her heart as well. I treasure it, carry it everywhere I go. A rhythmic heartbeat echo's through my ears when I hold it close.

"Undie." A whisper. A soft whisper that always manages to cut through my thoughts. I let it caress my ears, letting it repeat over and over again. Wait. I wasn't letting it repeat, the whispers were coming from someone else and they were becoming frantic. They changed not only from sound but also from what they were saying. Going from 'Undie' to 'Undertaker'. "Undertaker, please." It wasn't a whisper anymore. The scared tone made my heart speed up. Confusion fogged my mind momentarily as I opened my eyes.  
There it was, light. My red light. I tried sitting up but my limbs felt heavy. I couldn't even lift a finger. As strong as a storm roaring, dread rushed through my veins. The air around me felt cold. Why was it cold? It was as though I was laying in snow. "Undertaker? Can you hear me?" The same voice from before asked. It was Grell, she frowned down at me as I stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Lost in her beauty. Even the color of her aura was red. It was perfect and somehow warm. The warmth keeping me from freezing. I close my eyes once more, trying to figure out why I felt the way I did. I felt strange, as though something hit me. Or rather, I hit something. My head was pounding.  
"Undertaker!" Grell. Grell's tone held concern. Even after hearing that, I couldn't seem to bring myself to answer her. I did hear her, but something was blocking my strength to respond. I wanted to reassure her, tell her that there was nothing to worry over. But I also wanted to ask what happened. Why was I like this?

Cold. The cold was creeping in my bones. I was still awake and I still heard everything. Grell wasn't alone, there was someone else with her.  
"He doesn't respond." She says to someone. I open my eyes again to see whom she was talking to but I can't bring my head to move. It was heavy, hurting and keeping me from seeing anything else but the ceiling and Grell's hair which only appeared once in a while.

"What happened?" A new voice. One that sounded void of emotion and stern, yet, I could detect one emotion. It was vague but still there. It was concern. I listened as my light, my rose, told the unknown voice what happened.

"I think he fell and hit his head. He's awake but doesn't respond to anything, Will!" Grell explained, her voice cracking. She was beginning to panic. I wanted to remember what happened, I wanted to embrace her and kiss her. Sadly, I can't. She was speaking to William T. Spears it seemed. A serious reaper that disapproved of each thing my rose did.

"We should bring him to the Shinigami realm, we might be able to help him there." I heard William suggest. Perfect. Just perfect. Once again, I close my eyes, letting my thoughts wander. The air around me changed. It went from cold to painful. Wait, that wasn't the air that changed; it was my position. I had been laying on the ground it seemed and as I opened my eyes I noticed Grell standing on my right and William on my left, they had both pulled an arm over their shoulder. A barely audible grunt escaped my lips. I tried to lift my head, my attempts were in vein however. I wasn't paralyzed, so much was clear. I could still feel everything, the problem was that everything felt so heavy. From my lips to my toes. I could only move my eyelids.

Energy was being gathered together. I could feel it's effect as I saw a portal being formed by one of the two reapers. A portal that gave me some strength as well. I lifted my head, trying to look at my love. Grell didn't notice. She was too transfixed on creating the portal. I felt my heart sink as I saw the tears sliding down her cheeks. Was I the cause? My own eyes teared up at the salty tears my lover was shedding. When the portal was formed and ready to be used, she looked at William. She caught my eyes within her own when she saw me staring at her. I tried to smile but my lips wouldn't move. I was beginning to panic now, why wasn't my body cooperating?! I felt dread tugging at my heart at the thought of spending my days like this.

"Everything will be okay." Grell reassured when he saw the fear and tears in my eyes. Fear. Its clawed hands clamping down on my heart. Drawing blood, being eaten alive. That's what fear did. I try to at least nod but that was too much. At the lack of reaction, Grell looked over at William. She gave a curt nod and in sync they walked towards the portal. As soon as I felt its energy rush through my body, my eyelids grow heavy. I close them and the last thing I hear is Grell calling my 'name'. _"I'm sorry, love."_ I think to myself. I felt my breath hitching before my mind shut down completely. Was this it? Was this the end?

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Help is on its way

**Third person**

The night was as dark as one's mind could be. He was surrounded by the darkness of his mind, a place he had been forced to create. It was a safe place, but it was also one that had been abandoned some time ago. His light had brightened that place. Grell. He sighed inwardly, not being able to physically do it for some reason. He missed him. He felt lonely and locked up. Locked away from everything and everyone or in other words, trapped. Suddenly, he heard someone call.

"Undertaker." It was said in a serious tone. He thought that perhaps, it wasn't him they were talking to. Perhaps they were talking _about_ him. He looked around but he only saw blackness. He couldn't even say if he was standing, sitting or lying down. He tried to recall what brought him to this place. Thinking about what happened only made his head hurt, he tried to reach up with his hand but it wouldn't move. The fact that it didn't comply with his commands frightened him. He was truly panicking now.

"…can't hear you." Another voice said. It was the tail of a sentence and he knew they were talking about him. He tried to listen and remember the voices' owner.

* * *

Grell had been calling for Undertaker ever since they entered through the portal but he never received any sign that the mortician was still awake.

"Please hold on, dear." Grell said through his tears. He was scared. Scared for his lover's life. But also for his own. If the Undertaker were to give in to whatever was pulling him down, he didn't think he could live another day.

"I don't think he can hear you." William said as he looked at Undertaker. If one would carefully look, they'd see the concern William's eyes held. But The only one around to see it was Grell who didn't even bother to look at him as he kept talking to the unconscious reaper. "Grell, he can't hear you!" William shouted. It was loud enough to startle the red Shinigami. He looked up at him with shock. "Just get him to the infirmary." William said resisting the urge to push his glasses up further on his nose. The portal had brought them outside the library and they were lucky that the infirmary wasn't too far from there. Though it would take too long to drag the Undertaker to their destination so William suggested that Grell should go and run off to find a doctor, or at least a stretcher. With some protest William managed to get Grell going. They had laid the elder reaper down on the ground. Only then did they also notice the blood coating his silver hair. That was the main reason why Grell finally agreed to go. William winced at the wound as he inspected it carefully. He looked up to where Grell had run off to and stared for another few moments, not realizing that the mortician in front of him had opened his eyes. Yellow-green eyes glowed in the morning light of the reaper realm, silently struggling to focus. Undertaker tried to move his head in the direction where he saw a dark blur and to his surprise he could move his head. Not without pain though. A weak grunt passed his lips when he felt a sting in his skull. Why did it hurt so much?  
William heard the sound and looked back at the mortician. He kneeled down and laid a hand on the other man's chest.

"Undertaker? Can you hear me?" He asked the question Grell had asked over and over again not too long ago. Nodding was out of the question for Undertaker so instead he tried to say something. His mouth was dry and all he could manage was another unintelligent sound. "I'll take that as a yes." William said, a small smile crossing his face briefly. "Try to lay still, don't move your head too much." He said. His hand was still resting on the older reaper's chest.  
If he could, Undertaker would have rolled his eyes at that. But his headache was making it hard for him when he moved his eyes too much. He was having trouble breathing and laying on his back made it only worse. He wanted to change his position, but how? He groaned in irritation as his body didn't listen to him. He drew William's attention back to him immediately. The younger reaper was staring out in the direction he thought he heard someone, hoping it was Grell with help, but the mortician had caught his attention again. "Don't move." William repeated. As if he really could. Undertaker was getting frustrated but also dizzy. Not that reapers needed to breathe, but the sensation felt too weird if he just decided to stop. It would also serve in making William more worried. What were they doing there anyway? His answer literally arrived.

"William." Someone greeted in an out of breath tone. Undertaker tried to see who but he couldn't manage to lift his head. "Mr. Sutcliff told me what he thought had happened." The same voice said. It came closer to the mortician until he stood in his line of vision. "He also said, he didn't respond to anything." The man looming over Undertaker was a tall dark brown haired doctor, one Undertaker knew as an old friend. Undertaker blinked, silently wondering where his rose was. William removed his hand from his chest and stood up to talk to the doctor.

"Doctor Elkins." William greeted back. "He's responding better now, previously he didn't seem to be hearing us." He explained. Doctor Elkins nodded and turned to Undertaker once more. He kneeled down and carefully lay his hand on the elder's chest, just like William had done moments ago.

"I'm going to move your head a little to the side to inspect the wound, alright?" The doctor informed him. Undertaker frowned just barely. Was that the cause to his pounding head? Where was Grell. He wondered again. Doctor Elkins proceeded to carefully move Undertaker's head, sweeping at the silver hair so he could see better what was going on underneath the mass of hair. He frowned slightly at what he saw. Blood was coming freely and if he looked carefully he saw something that he didn't quite like. He let his hand hover over the wound and debated with himself whether he should feel around the injury or wait until someone brought the stretcher they were waiting for so he could inspect it better at the infirmary. Even with a risk of hurting the older man further, the doctor knew he shouldn't be waiting too long with a head injury like that. He slowly placed his hand on the mortician's head, his fingers feeling around the wound. Undertaker tensed up the slightest bit, he felt everything and it hurt. Unable to make much sound or move away. He could only groan in protest and close his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry old friend, I'm truly sorry." The doctor apologized. His suspicions were confirmed and he sighed sadly.

"Doctor Elkins!" Someone called out. The doctor looked around to see a few nurses carrying a stretcher with Grell in tow. Grell dashed back to Undertaker seeing his eyes squeezed shut.

"What's wrong?" He asked more to his lover then to the doctor who answered.

"I examined his head. His skull seems to be fractured, it's a wonder he's still awake." The doctor said while he looked down at the still form who had opened his eyes when he heard Grell's voice. Grell stared down at him and tried to give a reassuring smile, but all he managed to give the old reaper was a sad broken grin. Undertaker wanted to hold Grell in his arms so badly when he saw the smile.

"please move away, Sutcliff. Doctor Elkins will take it from here." William said coolly. Of course, William T. Spears, the one and only reaper who'd manage not to flinch if one were to hit him straight in the groin. Not that anyone ever tried, mind you. Doctor Elkins nodded sadly at Grell as if trying to make up for William's rudeness. The doctor had heard that the Legendary Reaper was hitched with Grell Sutcliff and he wished them both the best of luck. Rumors like that spread quickly in the library. Even though Elkins almost never went to the library, he still had to pass it to get to the infirmary.

The few nurses managed somehow to get the Undertaker on the stretcher and soon they were carrying him with haste. Moments later Undertaker was beginning to get dizzy again. He closed his eyes to still the raging storm that went on in his head. He felt like crying from the pain. He'd been ordered not to lay down on the back of his head, they had also placed him on his side on the stretcher to keep the pressure off of the injury. How had he ended up like that? He kept wondering the same things over and over again.

Suddenly, everything went still. There was no movement and no sound. There was no feeling. Except, it was as if he was floating. Floating through space and time. He tried to open his eyes again to see what was going on but he couldn't.


	3. Past scars

"We're losing him!" Doctor Elkins was shouting. They had just arrived at the infirmary to see that the Undertaker had lost consciousness again and that his heart was ceasing its beating. With his breathing already coming short and unsteady, they should have known it was to happen. Even if Shinigami didn't need to breathe, it could still cause complications when carrying a head wound. A fractured skull as was in Undertaker's case seemed bad on its own, let's not add troubled breathing on top of that list. Oxygen was needed for the recovery of every being. Be it an angelic, demonic or divine being, it was all the same for that matter.  
Grell's heart was sinking slowly. It was breaking, shattering in thousand pieces. Sharp little pieces that carved one word into his soul. 'Undertaker'. The mortician had been responding better, yet he was fading away from him. Why? The moment the red Shinigami found Undertaker on the ground he had felt panic rising steadily. That panic never lessened when his lover didn't wake up, nor did he calm down when he called William Spears. He was losing his sanity. His one true love that chained him to the will to fight on in the life where no one cared whatever he felt. He used to smile throughout the day and cry himself to sleep. The Undertaker had put an end to these days. Grell laughed a true genuine smile, however now it seemed these depressing days were about to come back.  
Was it an accident? Had the crazy old fool tripped on something and hit the side of one of his coffins? It seemed unlikely. Undertaker's balance was that of a flamingo standing on one foot. He moved as quiet as the wind, knowing how to play with the secrets of gravity. It couldn't have been an accident…could it?

Questions left unanswered, questions only Undertaker could know the answer to. While doctor Elkins was trying to save the retired Shinigami, the Undertaker was fighting as well.

* * *

" _Have you noticed? The night seems darker than usual." That sentence was the start of a battle. A battle which would leave many scars and memories. Even if Undertaker decided to forget them, they would still haunt him._

" _With other words, the perfect night." Undertaker said to a dark figure standing before him. The wind was roaring, screaming that a storm was approaching. It didn't matter for the two reapers standing at the port though. Rain was starting to fall soaking the dark clad men. Undertaker's gaze never faltered when the other man was staring at him with hatred and mischief. He'd been assigned to reap the very soul of a fellow Shinigami. Said Shinigami had betrayed his own kind, he'd made a contract with a demon. Undertaker, being the very first of their kind didn't even know it was possible for a Shinigami and demon to form a contract. The Shinigami before Undertaker wore dark trousers and a long coat, his dark brown hair came just below his shoulders and was waving along in the wind. "What made you betray your own kind?" Undertaker asked the brown haired Shinigami. The latter smiled and narrowed his eyes, inspecting Undertaker from head to toe. The elder wore a long cloak with the hood pulled over his head. Even with the wind blowing so hard, it never fell down. His silver hair played around him, glistering because of the rain._

" _What made me betray my own kind?" The younger reaper repeated. "I didn't betray them, they betrayed me." He stated, a maddening look perched upon his features. He summoned his death scythe in one swift motion. A sword like blade appeared in his hand threatening Undertaker by pointing its sharp point towards him. "What makes you think you can stop me by the way?" He asked almost laughing out loud. Amusement was clearly seen as he looked over the ancient. Old fashioned and disgusting. When he was still walking around in the library, he'd hear about the elder reaper who wandered around some times. Undertaker had the habit of moving eerily and disappear without someone ever knowing he was there to start with. As far as the brown haired man was concerned, the old man was weak. He barely spoke and when he did it was only a sentence or two. He spoke at just the right volume, his voice a deep sound that made everyone go silent instantly._

" _You were the one to form a contract, Desimus._ You _betrayed_ us _." Undertaker said. He still was barehanded. He didn't feel like summoning his scythe…yet. He ignored the second question for he knew for sure the younger reaper was about to find out soon. Desimus frowned at the ancient. The rain was soaking them, making their clothes cling to their body. How annoying._

" _You know, let's just finish this conversation fast." Desimus said sprinting towards the cloaked figure of the Undertaker. All the while, Undertaker stood in silence. When the other reaper's scythe was mere inches from his face, Undertaker jumped away. At lightning speed he called forth his own scythe and slashed Desimus' back. A hiss reached his ears as he stood still facing Desimus with the calmest expression. Truth be told, he didn't feel anything. He was void of everything. He didn't even care whether he lived or died. Not that he wanted to die, mind you. "You're fast for an old man." Desimus commented straightening delicately as the wound on his back pulled painfully. Undertaker didn't respond, he only watched the man for another attack._  
 _There was another presence. He sensed it just in time when Desimus moved again, this time Undertaker wasn't prepared for the second presence to jump in. When the younger Shinigami actually threw his scythe to the side just as Undertaker stepped aside to avoid getting cut. That was a mistake. Undertaker came face to 'face' with the sword's blade the moment he stood still. This resulted in the blade cutting diagonally across his face. He had the time to close his eye, that didn't keep it from getting damaged. When he opened his eyes again he saw a demon holding the sword. A reaper and demon working together, interesting. Never before had a reaper ever entrusted their scythe to a demon. Why were they fighting together like this? Undertaker, for a moment, was lost in thought until Desimus' voice cut through his train of thought. "He used to be my brother when we were still humans." He explained. Undertaker looked at the brown haired Shinigami and noted to his annoyance that his left eye only saw smoky blurs while his right eye was seeing as 'sharp' as any other Shinigami's eye without glasses. He had the terrible habit of forgetting to put them on. He was never bothered by his bad sight, making him the only reaper who could truly live without them._

" _You can still remember your human life?" Undertaker asked curiously. Reapers weren't supposed to have any recollection of their human lives. Undertaker himself had never been a human._

" _Only because he found me, he knew remembered first and made me remember as well." Desimus answered with a nod. "How fortunate." He added with a smirk and a thoughtful expression. Thunder began to rumble, breaking the silence that had fallen between the three men. "Do you remember anything from your past?" Desimus asked all of a sudden. His brother was just standing there, watching everything from a safe distance. Though he was prepared to intervene should things change._

" _I was not born a reaper, lad. I've been created." Undertaker said keeping his voice calm and stoic. When Desimus' eyes widened in shock he started to grin. A very rare grin that Undertaker never showed. A grin that from that day on would continue to appear and widen._

" _C…created?" Desimus asked perplexed. Undertaker nodded before running his way. His demon brother didn't have time to register all that happened, nor did he have the time to move even one finger when Undertaker's scythe plunged into his fellow reaper's chest. Cinematic records made their way out of Desimus' struggling body. The records were cut fast and easy. Slowly he turned to face the demon._

" _Can I take this dance?" Undertaker asked with a creepy smile. He ran for the demon with speed, never halting or faltering in his moves. The demon fought back with his brother's scythe managing to cut the silver haired Shinigami a few times on his arms and chest. The reaper in turn cut him as well at various places. "At least you know how to fight." Undertaker said pleased. He closed his eyes smiling at the demon who was gasping for breath. The quick movements had exhausted him fast. Anger was boiling his blood. Blood that mixed with the rain. He stepped forward and reached out fast with the sword pointed at the silver haired Shinigami. The sound of flesh being slid open was blessedly covered up by the thunder. Shocked, Undertaker felt his throat being ripped open. He felt the crimson liquid already coming up his mouth. The iron taste of his own life fluid. That was it. Enough playing. The demon had no time to deflect any of the other attacks the Undertaker landed on him. He was almost sliced in half by the huge scythe the reaper carried. Blood was leaving both men at an alarming rate. Undertaker's pale skin had even paled more, the demon was laying on the ground not looking any better. Gasping for air, he knew his last breath was nearing._

" _What is your name?" The demon asked speaking for the first time that night. Undertaker rare grin reappeared and he kneeled down._

" _I'm Death." He whispered with a strained voice. The demon finally gave in to his injuries. Undertaker didn't even know if he heard him, but it didn't really matter. He stayed on his knees like that for hours. He didn't find the strength to return to the Shinigami realm let alone stand up. Finally, the world around him darkened, fading away in a cold blackness. He never discovered the demon's name after that. Undertaker had been unconscious for days after someone found him with the dead body of Desimus. Apparently, the demon was never found. It also turned out that the demon had tricked Desimus into thinking he was his brother. Two brothers can't be reborn as one Shinigami and one demon. They'd either be both divine beings or demonic, which was quite rare in itself_ _._

* * *

"He's stable again." Doctor Elkins said with a relieved sigh. They'd transferred Undertaker to a bed in the infirmary, while keeping him stable. An oxygen mask was placed over the elder's nose and mouth, just in case. Grell had been send away, waiting for the door to open Grell paced anxious back and forth. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Why hadn't he been at the mortuary that day? He blamed William entirely for it. If his boss hadn't given him overtime he would have been with Undertaker earlier. Grell looked up as the sound of the door opening caught his attention.

"Doctor." Grell said in a hopeful tone. William had been sitting in the waiting room where Grell had been pacing, he was deep in thought. Thinking about not only Undertaker's condition but also the cause of it. Just like red reaper, did William suspect there could be more to it than a mere accident.

"He's stable for now." Doctor Elkins said with a nod. "I also treated his head wound, it seemed his skull was fractured. I am sorry, but there will be lasting damage." Elkins said sadly. "His inability to respond was because his brain suffers a slight damage, however that will change. He'll be able to move again as well. Though I fear episodes of a ceasing in mobility will occur, but I don't think anything as severe as previously will happen again." The doctor explained. Grell felt relieved even with the bad news. The point was, Undertaker was going to live!

"Can I see him?" Grell asked. He wanted nothing more than to be with his lover right now.

"Sure, but don't expect him to be awake for some time." Elkins said opening the door for Grell to enter. William stood up and approached the doctor with his usual stoic expression.

"Please notify me when the Undertaker's condition changes, I fear some paperwork is in need of being looked after." William said. After doctor Elkins answered with a 'certainly', William shook his hand and left the infirmary. Something was off. And he knew it.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Demons of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but it’s here! It’s a short meaningless chapter but I wanted to let you guys know that I didn’t abandon this story! I’m also not planning to! I’ll never just leave a story without telling anyone!

Indeed, it did take some time for Undertaker to finally awaken. When he finally opened his eyes it was already well past midnight. He was laying on something soft, a bed. He looked around the dimly lit room finding himself in a hospital room. He tried to move a finger, but something was holding it down. It didn’t feel like the previous heavy sensation but more of something warm pressing lightly at his hand. Luckily it was a feeling he knew well resulting in him not _wanting_ to move. He looked and finally heard the soft snores of his lover laying half upon the bed while the rest of his body was still sitting in a chair. Undertaker tried to grin but he was too tired. Just to be sure they’d decided to leave the oxygen mask on for the night and if nothing happened he would be rid of it the next morning, but he didn’t know that. Not feeling the need for extra oxygen, he pulled it off with his free hand, happy to find it responding to his commands. Undertaker lightly nudged Grell to wake him up. He didn’t like waking up his red rose, but the younger reaper was going to have a crick in the neck in the morning if he didn’t. Grell inhaled deeply, waking up at Undertaker’s silent attempts to rouse him. With a small groan of protest he opened his Shinigami eyes to meet the exact same pair of reaper eyes. Even though the eyes he met were hinting more towards a silver hue instead of the usual gold, they were the eyes of the one he loved the most. With an excited gasp, Grell sat up almost instantly.

“Undie!” He said coming closer to his lover for a hug. He embraced the elder tightly, afraid to let go. “Can…can you say something?” Grell asked uncertain. The silver reaper smiled again at his rose. He felt like he had been gone for days, it was as if he saw Grell for the first time since long.

“I love you.” Undertaker said. His voice was hoarse and raspy. He tried to clear it, but he ended up coughing instead.

“Oh dear, I’ll bring you some water.” Grell said. The oxygen mask must have made Undertaker’s mouth dry. Now he thought of it, he should be wearing it so his ancient mate wouldn’t risk dying all of a sudden. Frightened at the thought of losing him again, Grell looked at the water tab and back at the mask. “Would you please…” Grell began pointing towards the plastic mask hanging around Undertaker’s neck. “I don’t want to lose you.” Grell said, tears were forming in his eyes. He tried to blink them away but the action only made it worse. They were now rolling freely down his cheeks.

“I’m getting enough air, my darling red rose. I’m sorry for frightening you like I did.” Undertaker said. He looked with sincere regret towards the red Shinigami and he felt a pang of quilt tugging at his heart. His crimson rose had suffered a lot before they were lovers and now it seemed he had frightened his light, his heart and soul to the point of tears. He swallowed trying to get at least something down his throat before he would end up coughing again.

“Yes, but for a healing reaper, air is important.” Grell held on. He wiped at his eyes. His silver lover was looking at him with hurt eyes. The once lively sparkle was lost in an ocean of quilt. Yes, Grell had been scared for Undertaker’s life but it didn’t mean he should burden the other with it. He’d just woken up!

“Alright, I’ll put it back on for you.” Undertaker said lifting the mask to cover his nose and mouth once more. He’d do everything for his rose. Grell had brought him a light in the darkness. He saved him just in time before he lost sanity once and for all. In turn Undertaker had listened to the younger reaper’s story, he’d held him as he cried. Sympathy filled his heart when he heard how other reapers mistreated the gender confused Shinigami. An energetic reaper could reap more and longer than the stiff reapers. True William T. Spears was a good reaper as well but that didn’t mean freezing one’s face in an uncaring expression was a good thing. Undertaker looked on as Grell smiled satisfied. He shook his head with a grin and stifled a yawn. Grell turned away and took a glass from the cabinet, he filled it with cool water and brought it to the mortician.

“Now drink up, than get some rest.” Grell said handing over the cooled glass of water. Undertaker carefully lifted the mask again and looked at Grell for some kind of approval. When he only got a giggle as answer he smiled before bringing the glass to his lips. He drank thirstily until he had every drop inside of him. The clear liquid cooling him down. Undertaker finished his drink and just as the elder wanted to give the glass back to Grell everything around him changed. The white hospital walls turned grey and Grell, his lover, vanished right before his eyes. Undertaker heard the vague sound of glass shattering but that was it. The glass in his hand was gone and he found himself standing in a room. He looked around and frowned confused at the coffins around him. He seemed to be in his own mortuary. How did he get here? Questions were starting to form in his head as he heard the door open.

“Good morning.” A male voice greeted. The voice sounded familiar, but who was it? It certainly wasn’t the young earl, nor was it his butler.

“Hello.” Undertaker greeted back in his mortician voice. He didn’t feel like laughing or anything else, but he had to keep in character. Just like all those other rainy days. “Do you want to be…” Undertaker was cut off short as he felt a sudden pain in his skull. He saw two different colored eyes looking down at him. One eye was a golden tawny color while the other was a more reddish brown hue.

“Sorry reaper, you did something I simply cannot forgive.” The same voice from before said. Undertaker’s already blurry vision darkened as he lost the fight to stay conscious.

What happened? The main question that remained unanswered. Who was the two colored man? Another question that now plagued Undertaker’s thoughts. Was it a dream or a memory?

* * *

 

“Is everything alright in here?” A nurse asked entering the room after hearing a glass shattering. Grell was about to panic until he heard the nurse. At the moment the red reaper was panting and at the beginning of freaking out. He tried to explain that Undertaker had just blacked out, but all he managed to say came out as a broken sentence. “Take a moment to breathe, mister Sutcliff.” The nurse said shaking her head. In what she gathered she went to see what it was that had frightened the feminine man. The nurse stepped over the glass pieces and checked the undertaker’s vitals. They seemed alright, his blood pressure was a little on the low side, but nothing to really worry over. She sighed and looked back at Grell who was tearing up. “It’s nothing.” She began as she placed the oxygen mask back over the silver haired Shinigami’s face. “So he woke up and passed out again?” The nurse said making it sound as if it was a stupid thing to panic over. If only the woman had seen the scary black look Undertaker gave before passing out.

“He…he just looked…” Grell didn’t even know how to describe it. He knew the nurse wouldn’t understand his concern. “Just, would you inform his doctor and William that he woke up?” Grell asked in a low sad tone. He sighed as he looked at the tiny pieces spread over the floor. Just a little more of this and his heart would look like that. Shattered and broken. To be never repaired again.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Forgotten

In a dusty old shop something lay. Something that no one knew was there. A hidden clue that seemed to be forgotten. No one knew it was there. Not the owner and not the owner of the shop itself. That was because it shouldn’t have been there. Fallen from its place, a cord that had fallen from the sheath of a sword. A sword that could be highly dangerous in the hands of a demon. That black cord laying underneath a table had its own story. It should have been tied to the sheath of a death scythe in the form of a sword, a sword owned by a demon.

* * *

 

“Undertaker.”

Weary, he opened his eyes. He felt tired, like he could just fall asleep again.

“Undertaker.”

Why wouldn’t they just leave him? He didn’t want to get up…not just yet.

“Undertaker, we know you’re awake.”

Who said he was awake? He certainly didn’t feel like he was _awake_. He could see nothing but darkness, but his ears rung with various sounds. A ringing noise that never stopped, people walking around, people _calling_ to him. He even heard every breath they took! It simply hurt and he closed his eyes with a groan. He had a terrible headache and every sound felt like a thunderstorm raging in his head.

“Please, Undertaker.” The words ended with a tired sigh. A sigh he knew. He gathered everything he got and opened his eyes once more. Everything was red. Slightly panicking, Undertaker looked around seeing that it was only one person who was clad in a red coat and had long red hair, red shoes, red glasses, probably red underwear. Why all in red? Undertaker grunted at the red sight and tried to sit up. “Easy.” The redhead warned. Undertaker wanted to nod but his head hurt too much.

“What have you done?” Undertaker asked confusing Grell to no end. William was in the room as well and scowled down at the retired reaper.

“What do you mean, darling?” Grell asked as he helped his lover in a sitting position, quickly pushing the pillows behind the other’s back. William walked closer and inspected Undertaker’s uncoordinated gaze.

“Can’t move my hand.” Undertaker said looking down at said hand. It felt so heavy. William’s scowl turned into a confused frown and reached out to take the elder’s hand in his own. He stopped himself from doing so and decided it was best to get a doctor instead of making things perhaps worse.

“I’ll be right back.” William said already on his way to the door. “Don’t touch his hand. And you,” He pointed towards Undertaker. “Don’t move it.” William said. Undertaker just raised an eyebrow. Like he could move it anyway. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the red reaper.  
Right. His light, his beautiful light. As confused as he was, Undertaker could never forget Grell.  
A moment later, William returned with doctor Elkins.

“Ah, Undertaker old friend. You gave your red lady quite a scare when you passed out without warning.” The doctor said. He had tried to calm the young reaper down and it worked after a good few hours. Elkins had been summoned after one of the nurses gave up on convincing Grell that there was nothing wrong. Undertaker looked apologetically towards the red reaper and smiled sheepishly as if he could have done anything about it to stop it when he blacked out.

“That was unintentionally.” Undertaker excused but Grell understood. “Now, is this ‘ol head o’ mine going sane or what is this.” He asked as he tried to life his hand, but all he managed was moving his shoulder.

“Don’t you mean _in_ sane?” Grell tried to correct but he only received an amused smile from the Undertaker. People had always referred to him as an insane old man, why not accept the truth? He _was_ insane after all.

“I don’t think so, that would take much more.” Doctor Elkins said knowing what Undertaker was hunting down with his choice of vocabulary. The brown haired doctor came closer and took the elder’s hand for inspection. His touch was gentle and careful. “I see.” Elkins said thoughtfully. “Try to move your fingers for me.” He said as he kept his gaze to the pale hand. The ancient concentrated and tried his hardest best to move at least one finger. Without much luck.

“It’s not working.” Undertaker sighed as he released the tension he’d build up in his arm. The doctor nodded and flexed Undertaker’s fingers.

“His hand was working fine when I gave him a glass of water last time.” Grell said concerned. What if it was paralyzed because of him? Perhaps he shouldn’t have given the glass right after regaining the mobility of his body back. Grell should have known better. He should have been more careful but he was too concerned with the oxygen mask at the time. He was glad at least that was gone now. The sight of his lover laying like that was making it hard for him to fall into the arms of *Morpheus.

“Yes but it could be a temporary thing. An aftershock from the trauma his head sustained.” Doctor Elkins explained. “I wouldn’t worry over it too much.” He said trying to reassure everyone that it was normal in this case. It wasn’t like Elkins had ever had a case like this before though. “Undertaker, I do need to talk to you about something however.” The doctor said as he regarded his patient. “Would you mind leaving the room for a little while? I suggest you go and eat something before we’re forced to get another bed in here.” Elkins said as he looked at Grell. Grell hesitated and was about to protest when he saw William staring at him with the slightest expression of warning. He knew that look.

“Alright Undie, I’ll see you in a few moment.” Grell said not really wanting to leave the elder’s side. As William and Grell went to grab something to eat, doctor Elkins was left alone with the Undertaker.

“Is there anything you recall from the accident?” The doctor asked. He and the silver haired reaper had been friends for years and Elkins was concerned for him. He had enemies from almost every realm. The heavens seemed to be the quietest of them all for a change. It were the angels who usually cause more trouble with their purifications.

“I do not. Though, I think I remember seeing someone.” Undertaker said as he really thought about it. Elkins raised an eyebrow at that. So it wasn’t an accident? The doctor nodded and rested one arm over his other, bring up his hand to cup his chin in thought.

“Do you know who?” The doctor asked. Undertaker grinned lightly as he lifted his gaze and swept away the bangs from his eyes with his one working hand.

“Couldn’t even begin to guess. Everything was even more blurred after I suddenly felt a pain shoot up my head. I also don’t wear glasses.” Undertaker said as he sighed, the smile falling from his lips. “How long will this last?” Undertaker asked the doctor looking sadly at his right hand.

“Only time can tell.” Doctor Elkins said with a sigh of his own. “I’m really sorry, Undertaker.” He apologized. Life had its cruel ways of making people suffer. Even Death himself couldn’t escape life’s tricks.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Morpheus: He’s the god of dreams and people from maaaany centuries ago often referred to him. Some still do, by the by ;)


	6. Remembering something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT A NEW CHAPTER!  
> I saw that I had posted a chapter more on ff.net, apparently I forgot to update it on here. I apologize for that!  
> But if it makes you feel better, I'm working on this again. I'm writing chapter 7!

Things were getting better and turning worse all at the same time. After Undertaker's hand started functioning normal again, he was released from the infirmary. Grell had refused to let the Undertaker go back to the mortal realm with as result, the mortician had to send someone to paste a note on his door saying,

" _On vacation, not sure how long_

_-Undertaker"_

The ancient reaper was grateful for Grell's concern but he missed his job and his lover had a job of his own as well. He was often alone. In a small apartment with surprisingly little red. Undertaker loved the color red. It was Grell's color. Red only existed for the carefree reaper and no one else.

"I'm going back to my shop tomorrow." Undertaker said one evening after being alone all day. With Grell working for dispatch he could be called for whatever reason on whatever hour. William wasn't all that fond of Grell's way of reaping but there was no denying that the red reaper was one of the best reapers from London dispatch. Excluding the retired Undertaker of course.  
William often thought of his idol and his certainly not-idol lover. They'd be invincible as a team. Would Undertaker join again, the demons would never dare to even look at a reaper again. Undertaker was one of the higher ups after all. Not that anyone cared to admit but if he had never lost even a little sanity, he'd be controlling the whole Shinigami realm.  
All babbling aside, Grell tried to look past the white bangs that had fallen in front of the ancient's eyes.

"You can't go back." The red reaper protested. He was scared of another attack. He may have sounded a little possessive but he wasn't planning on letting his lover get killed. Whomever attacked the older man  _knows_  how to surprise him. If it was an attack at all. Though Grell was fairly sure it wasn't just an accident.

"I have to, dear. I can't close up shop for too long." Undertaker said sadly. He looked at Grell and found his searching eyes. He grinned widely and laughed. "You shouldn't worry as much as you do." He said as he wrapped an arm around the younger man.

"Alright, but be careful." Grell said knowing better than to fight the elder. They both were stubborn and Grell knew from experience that the mortician knew how to win a discussion. Undertaker nodded with a smile.

"Don't worry, love." The silver reaper assured. "I'll be as careful as the wind." He said walking over to his lover to wrap him in his arms.

"But the wind can knock things over too." Grell complained with a frown but leaned into the Undertaker's embrace.

The rest of the evening went without incident and the two went to bed early. Without any nightly activity to Undertaker's regret. Grell was insisting that he was scared that if things got too hot and blood would rush to his lovers head that it would explode. Literally explode. This idea however came from a nightmare that had plagued the red reaper ever since the accident and the image of seeing his lover motionless yet still conscious had frightened him enormously.

  
Somewhere in the night Undertaker felt something wet on his shoulder which woke him up. He opened his eyes to the sight of Grell crying his eyes out on his shoulder. Which explained the wetness.

"Grell, love?" Undertaker asked softly. Upon closer inspection he saw that the crying reaper was still asleep and that it was yet another, or perhaps the same, nightmare that was playing inside his dreamscape. "Grell, wake up." Undertaker laid his hand on Grell's shoulder, lightly shaking it until he saw two tear filled green-yellow orbs open. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked quietly.

"Oh, Undie! It was terrible!" Grell exclaimed once he recognized the man he was crying against. He closed his eyes tightly, letting even more tears fall.

"Shush, my dear. Everything is alright now." Undertaker reassured. He caressed him on the back silently easing his upset mind. "Do you want to talk about it?" Undertaker asked softly. He'd gone from caressing his companion's back to combing his hair with his fingers. Grell sighed deeply before opening his eyes to stare at Undertaker's torso.

"Y…you, you were like that again. Staring into my eyes, pleading with me, but you couldn't move." Grell said ending it with a sob. "I was panicking." He added sadly. Undertaker sighed forlornly and gripped Grell tight, letting him know he was still able to move and talk to him.

"I'm sorry for scaring you the way I did. I just don't know what happened before you found me." Undertaker said truthfully. Grell pulled away from the embrace and stared into Undertaker's loving green eyes.

"Just, be careful, okay?" Undertaker smiled sadly and nodded before his gaze lightened up and he jumped out of bed. Grell followed him with his eyes, a little confused at the sudden departure of his mate.

"The sun is rising, look how pretty." Undertaker said almost childlike. Grell giggled and stood up to stand next to the elder.

"It's wonderful." The red reaper said wrapping an arm around the older reaper's waist. An arm wrapped itself around him as well, he snuggled into the warmth that was shared between the two Shinigami.  
The clock just had to mess things up, didn't it? At that moment the alarm went off and in two synchronized groans Undertaker and Grell went for the alarm to shut it off. Both men reached the alarm at equal speed and both men hit each other in their attempt to quieten the clock. In the end both reapers were rubbing their arm and the alarm was still ringing in obvious triumph. Eventually, Grell silenced the ringing before Undertaker got the idea of summoning his death scythe and cutting the thing clean in half.

"Why do these things even exist?" Undertaker asked breathing out in one deep breath.

"My silver darling, why does it matter? We were already up anyway." Grell said with a giggle. Undertaker stifled a giggle of his own behind his hand and shook his head with a smile. "Let's get ready." Grell said with a sad sigh. He took his clothes and went into the bathroom. Just when Undertaker was planning to go to the kitchen to start making breakfast for the both of them, he noticed how his feet weren't cooperating with him. He frowned down at his feet annoyed. They seemed to be rooted to the floor. Not wanting to panic Grell after his night terror, Undertaker sat himself down on the bed. Luckily he was standing beside it and able to bend his knees before they'd give out on their own. A sudden white flash blinded him as he saw the room being engulfed by whiteness and then everything blurred into his usual vision. Only now, he wasn't in Grell's apartment. He was back at his shop. Confused, Undertaker tried to look around but he couldn't. Just like the first time his eyes were moving but he rest of his body ignored him as he willed it to move. His attempts were halted when something entered his blurry vision. Feet? Undertaker tried to frown at the feet but even that didn't work.  _"What's happening?"_ He asked himself. The feet passed him by, he tried to follow them but in vain. Another object came into his field of vision, by its elegant downfall and slow descend, Undertaker concluded it was light and some sort of fabric. It could have been of his own robes that had been shred or something the owner of the feet had dropped. As sudden as the light had swallowed him the first time, the second time was as uncomfortable as the first. He began hearing a faraway voice. It was calling for him. "Undertaker! Please snap out of it!" It was saying almost freaked out. Undertaker tried to look past the whiteness and to his surprise it worked. Slowly something red came into view.

"Grell?" Undertaker asked while he blinked as if just waking up from having slept too long. "I'm sorry, m'dear." Undertaker apologized shaking his head as if to clear it.

"You were just lost in thought, right?" Grell asked almost hopeful. He was on the verge of having another panic attack before he finally got his lover’s attention. His eyes had been so distant, the vibrant colors were fading slowly too. Luckily Grell hadn't really noticed the changing colors, but now everything was back to normal. Or so they hoped.

"Yes, I was thinking of going back to my shop. It would be refreshing. Back to working on my clients." Undertaker lied. He knew that if what he saw was a memory and the fabric was still laying in his shop, it meant that the incident that had taken place days ago had been no accident. He knew Grell always wore red shoes and he had never seen William wear shoes higher than his heel. The shoes he had seen were too short to be called boots but too high for anything else.

"You miss it that much?" Grell asked sadly. Undertaker nodded. Now that  _wasn't_  a lie. "Do you mind me moving in with you then?" Grell asked almost nervously. Undertaker's usual Cheshire grin suddenly flared to life again.

"I'd be all too happy!" He said suddenly revived to his usual eccentric self. He stood up slowly, testing his feet. They were moving. Good. Grell watched him with caution and Undertaker knew that he'd be onto him with every move he'd make.

"Ack! The time! No time for breakfast for me it seems." Grell shouted all of a sudden. Undertaker looked at the clock he'd wanted to murder an hour ago and was gobsmacked himself at the time. He'd been spacing out for that long? Or was it reliving a memory? "I'm sorry my silver beauty, I have to go now." Grell said giving Undertaker a quick smooch on the cheek. Undertaker giggled and quickly took Grell in his arms before the other could flee the room. With a surprised yelp Grell fell into laughter.

"That was hardly a goodbye kiss." Undertaker said planting a kiss on Grell's lips. Grell returned it eagerly.  
Oh, and this was just the start of a beautiful day, a beautiful day that slowly turned against them. Reversing their luck into misfortune. Or the Undertaker's luck at least.

 

* * *

 

 

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	7. Amon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for putting this on hold for so long! I never forgot about this and like I said. I do plan on continuing this. I will finish what I started.

Undertaker entered his shop with a grin on his face. He quickly tore the note off of his front door and threw it into the trashcan. It felt good to step into the familiar dusty shop. Faint echoes of his own laughter were still present and it haunted his humble shop, frightening customers who set foot into his life’s work. A building kept upright by the essence of his excitement for the dead.

“Let’s see if I still have that pretty beggar woman I was working on.” He wondered to himself. The corpse would have already started decaying, but that made his work more fun. The more time he got to spend on his work, the less he’d have to think about other things.  
Life was a curious matter, he observed. So many things were left unsaid. So many secrets were kept hidden. Great stories were taken into a long slumber of eternal sleep. It made the mortician sigh in thought. Humans were so pitiful, it hurt to watch. He envied their mortality, something he yearned for when time turned against him. However, his crimson rose was out there probably thinking about him. It made him feel almost feel wistful. Almost.

He made his way to the back of his shop where the foul smell of a rotting corpse wafted around the room. He smiled despite the awful stank. How nice it would be, to pretty up a woman no one loved.

“You have lost.” He muttered silently. He easily slipped into his old routine and embalmed her without incident. It was quiet. Almost too much for him to bear. He was headed for the kitchen when the unmistakable presence of demon permitted the air. It was a lingering piece of a vile creature that had stepped foot into his parlor not too long ago. It wasn’t the Phantomhive butler though. It was a more familiar demon. One he had befriended and pledged unreliable both at the same time. He had been a fool back then. Without warning, his head grew heavy and his vision started flickering. A new room morphed into place and he looked around curiously. His feet were rooted to the floor, his vision swimming in dizzying ways.

“Isn’t it curious? It’s my new way of greeting, it is.” A voice told him. No matter how hard he tried, Undertaker couldn’t find the source of the voice. It was all around him. It was creating echoes, bouncing off the walls as they please. Once the echoes hit one another, it created enough energy to send painful waves through his head. The reaper winced when a painful laugh left him. Matter and antimatter. Guess what creature is created out of that. “You are getting closer, my friendly friend.” Undertaker huffed at the voice, his annoyance was becoming an overpowering emotion, but it ignored its ferocity building up in his chest.

“Your presence is bothersome.” Undertaker managed to say, his voice a strained half whisper.

“You threaten me to take back my words. You are not friendly at all.” The voice told him in all it’s annoying glory.

“Don’t reconsider.” Undertaker muttered.

“You disappoint me.” The voice tutted. Undertaker could almost imagine a head shaking in feigned disappointment. That was, if the voice hadn’t already grown a body. The head he was seeing, familiar as it was, wasn’t shaking its head. “And I thought we could become one again.” The man in front of him was a demon. The rotting smell all but confirmed it.

“You were the one waltzing in here.” Undertaker countered matter of factly.

“Of course, I like your hospitality.” The demon smiled its kindest smiles, a fake forced smile. The battle behind the demon’s eyes ignited a fire within its unwelcoming depths. “Really, I appreciate it.” He affirmed with a nod.

“You do realize who I am, right?” Undertaker asked with narrowed eyes of confusion. His words were a silent warning, telling the demon he wouldn’t be able to hold him down for long.

“Oh I do, I do. I’m actually rather disconcerted about your own recollection abilities.” The demon told him. “Perhaps, this ought to clear up the fog in that old noggin’ of yours.” The demon raised his head where to neither creature’s surprise, materialized a sword. A beautiful pattern was carved into it. The sword was glowing softly and it was wafting waves of longing. Undertaker recognized its calls for what they were, the demon however didn’t seem to care less. This made the silver reaper smile. His smile resulted in an answering frown from the demon standing in front of him. A wanton glimmer flickered behind its eyes, but they were silenced quickly.

“I still don’t know who you are, that scythe however, doesn’t belong to you.” Undertaker started flexing his toes. He felt them move and proceeded to take a few steps towards the demon. The sword was helping him, he noted. The longing he recognized earlier was the sword’s pain. It wanted its rightful owner and even though Undertaker wasn’t its owner, he was a reaper and thus able to bring it back and the sword knew that. No consciousness. Just an object. After feeling the energy it was giving off, Undertaker could only laugh at a statement like that.

“Impossible.” The demon said. He held the scythe in a defensive manner. It was a vain attempt at keeping the reaper at bay and all it was doing, was help Undertaker. “I will make you remember if I have to, but not now. This is amusing.” The demon said. He lowered himself and slid his hand underneath the cabinet next to him. “I will be taking this along.” He said holding up a long black cloth. When he vanquished the scythe Undertaker took one big step towards the demon who in turn stepped back to avoid the reaper. In the end, Undertaker only managed to grab the cloth. The demon had disappeared when he next looked up.

“It is curious indeed.” Undertaker confirmed at last. He studied the material, it was soft. He also noted the intriguing warmth spreading through his fingers and into his arms. A warmth of acceptance was glowing inside of him as he held the black cloth.

He didn’t remember when the room started to shift or when the infuriating knocking on his door had started. He felt as if he just woke up from a nap although he was standing upright. Strange. He started laughing to himself until he felt the fabric slip from his fingers. He watched it cascade to the ground, its descend was agonizingly slow. He cursed when he tried to flex his fingers.

“Again?” He asked his betraying body angrily. The bonking on his door was growing even more aggravating. He strode towards the front of his shop and opened it, struggling with the door knob for a moment longer than he wished. “What?!” He asked angrily. He saw Grell’s tear stricken face slowly being filled with fright.

“Y…you weren’t…you weren’t answering.” He gulped out.

“I’m sorry.” Undertaker apologized. He smiled sheepishly, an unconscious thought to try and reassure his red love.

“You…what were you doing?” Grell asked pushing passed the undertaker who let her pass. He closed the door, quickly thinking up an excuse.

“I was in the back, embalming.” He held up his greasy hands. One of them frozen as if it had been holding something earlier, the other one mimicking the other. His filthy hands were enough an excuse for it to seem he was deliberately holding them like this.

“Well, I was thinking.” Grell started. He smiled seductively and urged closer towards Undertaker. “Why don’t you wash your hands, it’s time for something more productive.” He winked and started tracing a finger down Undertaker’s chest. If he wasn’t so caught up by the less than polite thoughts forming inside his head, he would have been worried about his hand and Grell’s reaction to finding out.

“Of course, my red beauty.” Undertaker stole a quick kiss before heading towards the kitchen. Once he stepped foot on the tiled floor, he realized his mistake. “Bullocks.” He whispered while looking down at his right hand. How long did this last again? Undertaker tried to remember, but he usually passed out and woke up being able to move about as he pleased. He had half a mind to wonder about his libido, thinking what would happen if his hand worked but his goods didn’t. He could imagine Grell’s offended huffing and ranting. Undertaker let an involuntary chuckle leave his lips.

Immobile or not. He had to wash his hands eventually. The fluids covering them weren’t particularly alluring. On the contrary, it was right out disgusting. Those were the wrong body fluids he wanted to think about while his red rose was waiting for him. He should have known that his rose wasn’t exceptionally patient. He had made yet another error.

“Undie?” Came the question from what he suspected was his bedroom. Right, Grell was going to move in with him and if he couldn’t solve this mystery of immobility, he would have to deal with a very concerned and panicky Grell on what seemed to be on a daily basis. It wasn’t the effort of having Grell around all distressed and whatnot, it was the thought of putting Grell through _being_ worried and all. Undertaker didn’t want to do that to him. Not while he didn’t know what was wrong himself.

“I’m coming.” Undertaker answered. He turned the tab open and started washing his numb hand with his working one. “I don’t want this stuff on my beautiful rose.” He added a short while after. He was worried. How was he going to tell Grell he couldn’t move his hand? His thoughts started to crumble together. When had he started feeling dizzy? He registered the water running, he felt it on his hands.

Wait.

He felt it on both hands. He sighed relieved, but the dizziness was making him feel sick. He swallowed a couple of times until it passed. When he didn’t feel like the world was trying to kill him, he looked down at his hands. His right hand felt less heavy, more attached. He laughed breathily. He knew he was losing it. Sure he had lost it long ago, but this was just another way of losing one’s marbles, he concluded. Smile. He thought. Smile, reaper. The words send him spiraling down another path. A mental click would have been heard if it wasn’t a metaphorical thing.

 _“Smile, reaper.”_ The words were heavy, spoken for the thousandth time. Again and again. He saw the face of a familiar demon, his dark brown hair like it had ever been.

 _“Be friendly, Amon.”_ Undertaker felt like saying. His lips parted, the words almost spilling out.

Amon. The name was a tangled mess of memories starting to come to life, recounting what happened and what never should have. The company of a demon, forming a hybrid between two beings. Merged into one, powerful entity until yin ejected yang. Undertaker’s eyes widened in horror. Demons of the past had come back to haunt him, literally. Vengeance was astringent, he decided, looking down at his hands once more. He knew what was happening.

 

* * *

  **TO BE CONTINUED!!**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this writing style or reapers in general: buy this book: https://www.bol.com/en/p/the-shadows-of-reality/9200000073795096/
> 
> It was inspired by Yana’s work ^_^
> 
> Also, not sure if you can buy it outside of Belgium and The Netherlands ... I'll find a way though :')


	8. "Smile, reaper"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter...wow..  
> Also, "Smile, reaper" is a reference to my other fic "Smile, red reaper." I couldn't help it lol

Was it sunny or were the candles burning down his shop? Undertaker couldn’t decide, all he could see was the realization and the blinding light of acceptance. He could vaguely hear Grell’s voice calling out again, but he paid it no heed. Instead, he set off towards the door and left, the door slammed behind him. His ears were ringing. How could he have forgotten? A face so memorable, almost impossible to miss in a crowd.

* * *

 

_“You should appreciate life a bit more, reaper.” A set of golden eyes flickered sideways. A huff was heard. “Smile, reaper.”_

_“Be friendly, Amon.” A head, half covered in bandages turned towards the other._

_“It’s been days since you reaped Desimus, you should forget about him.” Amon told him._

_“Forget? He contracted a demon, I can’t even remember how it looked like.” A single green-golden eye’s gaze turned downwards._

* * *

 

It wasn’t the face though. It were the eyes, they held a fire within. The fire battled a fight so vicious, it always found a way to stay ablaze and destroy. The Undertaker ended up walking into an old warehouse. As if he’d been drawn towards it.

His gaze wandered over the numerous shelves, noting their worn down texture. They wouldn’t hold him, were he to jump. The room was growing colder the longer he allowed his eyes to scan. A fog was starting to rise and only then did he take a step forward to investigate further.

“Do you like the little surprise visit?” An all too familiar voice asked. Undertaker didn’t even bother to turn around.

“No, I actually don’t think I do.” He said.

“You started to remember.” Amon started. “I had to erase it and had some fun using this.” He held up a vial consisting of nothing but a clear liquid.

* * *

 

_“Smile, rea-“ Amon was cut off by a hand waving into his face._

_“Don’t you dare.” Undertaker warned. He poured a clear liquid into a porcelain cup._

_“You’re no fun.” Amon responded. He was supporting his head with his hands, boredom as clear as the liquid in front of him. He’d been staring at Undertaker for the last half hour, studying his various expressions. So serious. Amon decided at last. It didn’t suit the reaper._

_“Do something productive.” Undertaker said. He was irritated and it showed._

_“What’s so productive about this than?” Amon asked motioning towards the cup. “Why does it have so many flowers?” He lowered himself, clutching onto the table for support._

_“This is a poison. Created by the created.” Undertaker said with a smile, pushing the cup further away from the demon._

_“The created? Life, mister Death, is what makes you tick.” Amon stood upright once more. He crossed his arms, a smug smile played on his lips. “Why poison a human if you can make them dissipate with the blink of your eyes?” Amon was amused, but the know-it-all posture was Undertaker’s fuel to outsmart him._

_“Life is what makes you die.” Undertaker countered. “This poison will kill a human with a single drop, kill a horse with two and incapacitate any other immortal being using whatever is needed.” Undertaker explained. “I don’t know the effects yet, but it shouldn’t be able to kill angels, demons or reapers.” Unfortunately. Undertaker added to himself._

* * *

 

The present was as dull as the past felt to the mortician. Amon was the demon who had lied to Desimus and who had managed to befriend his potential killer. How had he survived? The question came sudden, but the urge to ask faded the moment he laid eyes on the demon. He hadn’t missed him.

“How did you even get that?” Undertaker asked genuinely interested.

“Simple. You forgot about it and frankly, I did too for a little while.” Amon said with a breathy laugh. “The moment you started to remember, I took it.” He explained.

“Why bother and befriend me in the first place?” Undertaker asked.

“I live for the entertainment, reaper.” Amon said with a dismissive shrug.

“In that case you should appreciate life a bit more.” Undertaker answered. He manifested his scythe in one swift motion.

“Sure you don’t want to kill an old friend?” Amon said. “Or the friend of your friend if you don’t count me as a friend anymore.” He added as an afterthought. Undertaker smiled, not one of fondness or amusement, more out of the sight he was imagining. A decapitated head held in his hands, blood everywhere, coating the rusty shelves a red that would make his lover proud. “You learned how to smile.” Amon said with a smile of his own.

* * *

 

_“I’m death.” Undertaker said. His voice was a strained whisper, barely audible._

_“I taught you how to smile.” The nameless demon stood up when he felt the silver haired reaper drop beside him. He turned towards the dead body of his so called brother. “I will teach you too, reaper.”_

_The voice reached through, but it didn’t register. The sword was picked up with ease, it was dripping three different substances. One murky transparent, a clear liquid and the morbid crimson fluid belonging to the reaper at his feet. Rain, Amon looked up at the sky. Poison, Amon looked down at the reaper. Blood, Amon smirked. When death forgot, demons could come out to play. Life, love, was nowhere near. A tricky mind game it would become, but a fascinating one at that._

* * *

 

“I made you forget, I made you remember.” Amon began. “You were much more intriguing than Desi.” He said. Insanity, according to Undertaker, was a present feature not of the Undertaker but of the demon right in front of him.

“No, I made that poison after I met you.” Undertaker said.

“You never really met me.” Amon told him. “I have always been there.” He said, his voice was growing husky and he was swimming in self-satisfactory. It disgusted the reaper. Undertaker’s scythe was growing heavy, his hands were losing their grip on the handle. There was a fog rising inside his head, threatening to take him away into another memory. If it hadn’t been for the shrill sound of a chainsaw cutting through the air, the Undertaker would have lost a battle he never remembered putting in motion.

“Ah! My silver darling and a beast of a handsome creature.” Grell’s unmistakable voice overpowered the sound of the chainsaw. “The room is too small for this.” He said as he blinked rapidly and feigned being overwhelmed, using his hand to flap up and down repeatedly as if it would cool him off somehow.

“I have seen you before.” Amon said with a smirk. “You two are quite the pair.” Undertaker saw an anxious glimmer fighting a way towards the surface of the blazing furnace that were the demon’s eyes.

“Judging by my silver darling’s expression here, you are not a friend.” Grell commented. He took consequential steps towards the Undertaker and put a hand on his arm. He started pulling upwards. It took Undertaker a moment longer before he recognized the act as an attempt to straighten him from his slumping position. When Grell let go of him, a spike of electricity coursed through him. It was a shockwave of longing that followed afterwards.

The spark of electricity awakened more than just the empty feeling of hiraeth. It did so much more and it didn’t go unnoticed by both other beings. It brought life. The incessant ringing in his head stopped abruptly and his scythe became almost weightless. It was almost hovering just above his hands, but it wasn’t. He was still gripping it tightly. This was a good sign. Undertaker concluded. The smile that followed wasn’t the one Amon had tried to create. The smile of the insane had turned into a genuinely amused smile with as much brightness as any sane person who’s sincerely happy would have. Amon took note of Undertaker’s eyes though, glassy and clouded with insanity. He hadn’t lost yet.

“My my, remind me never to touch you if that’s going to be your reaction.” Amon said.

“Be friendly, Amon.” Undertaker warned. He straightened up the best he could. He lifted his scythe high above his head and held it there, obviously enjoying the airy feeling it sent through him. Grell wore a matching grin. The mournful sound of the scythe slashing through the air and Grell’s chainsaw cutting the rusty shelves were strangely soothing sounds to the duo’s ears. Amon grimaced and stepped back. The two reapers charged both at the same time, each on a different side towards the demon. Amon quickly caught on and managed to manifest the sword. Grell faltered when he sensed the nature of the sword. Undertaker, knowing fully well the nature, background and current situation of not only the sword but also its previous owner, never slowed down. He brought his scythe down with agile ease. Amon countered it with the sword, deflecting the huge scythe and sending sparks flying up in the air. Having had the time to process the off feeling of the yearning of a scythe, Grell aimed for Amon’s hand. The beautiful gush of red that followed made Grell’s smile reappear.

“Agh!” Amon cried out as he dropped the sword. Undertaker took a step closer and inspected the demon closely.

“Why?” Undertaker asked simply. Amon stared at the reaper, his eyes betraying his growing defeat and acceptance thereof.

“Entertainment.” Amon repeated. Undertaker shook his head, picked up the sword and promptly cut off the demon’s severed hand. Amon cried out, sending echoes to travel the specious room.

“Wrong answer.” Undertaker held the sharp blade against Amon’s cheek, silently warning him not to lie again.

“You weren’t happy. Reapers…never are.” His voice was starting to become strained.

“Why care?” Undertaker pressed the blade into Amon’s cheek, cutting through the skin. The demon snorted and shook his head, trying not to cut himself any further.

“I believe in life.” Amon’s words were heavy. They were dragged out, cautious but the truth.

“Oh, you handsome devil.” Grell began. “I bet you don’t believe in death than? He’s standing right in front of you.” Grell said amused.

“Death can learn to live too.” Amon said. A glimmer of hope flickered out of existence when Undertaker lifted his scythe.

“No.” He answered.

“Smile, reaper.”

“Not for you.”

Red. Beautiful red. The color of love and hatred, so different yet so equal. It was a part of their world. It brightened the dark shadows and chased away the demons. Red. The color of warmth and comfort, of death and despair. Forever it continues to paint the world of two certain reapers. And they were prepared to enjoy every single moment of it.

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know something else you want me to write, go ahead and suggest away~ ^_^


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